On the Stair
by do-the-monkey
Summary: Ginny Weasley has been rescued. Slytherin's monster has been defeated. Exams have been canceled. It's enough to put any castle full of hormonal teenagers in a celebratory mood. One-Shot. Oliver Wood/OC.


She hadn't intended to snog the Gryffindor quidditch captain, but hormones and adrenaline have a way of scattering even the most controlled minds.

The feast to celebrate Ginny Weasley's rescue and the reanimation of the petrified students was raging as not even the most diligent of professors were paying much attention to the students. She had been returning from the girls' bathroom and he had been on the way to the boys' when they collided. With keeper-quick reflexes, he saved her from a nasty tumble down the stairs.

During their exchanging of thank-yous and sorrys, they noted each other's attire. Or lack of it. Like everyone else in the school, they wore pajamas. He in slightly too small scarlet and gold striped bottoms and scarlet tank top (Gryffindor through and through). She in a thin, cotton sleeveless navy nightgown and matching robe. Neither of them could be considered scandalously attired.

The next thing they noted is that by steadying her a stair above him, their faces were at a more even level. And close.

The last thing they noticed before the little space between them vanished is that they didn't know the other's name. Helena's grandparents would be horrified. Oliver's father would be proud and his mother slightly embarrassed.

As things do, snogging led to some mildly heavy petting. It was Oliver's hand on the back of Helena's naked thigh that snapped her out of their lust-filled haze. She stiffened and grabbed his hand to halt its progress. Oliver removed his lips from her neck as she whispered "Stop."

They stared at each other, breathing heavily. Oliver blushed and looked away, remembering where they were. Helena looked down at their clasped hands. Her face paled as she thought about all the things that could happen had they been caught. She wasn't sure which was worse, a letter home or the loss of her position as a Hufflepuff prefect.

She looked back up when she felt Oliver slide his other hand from the small of her back and hold the hand that she had forgotten to remove from behind his neck. Their eyes met again. This time, however, he backed down a step.

That caused Helena to panic a little. She stepped down to close the distance he had created and blurted, "I've never done this before. I'm not one of _those_ girls. I swear. Please don't tell anyone."

He blushed even redder and replied, "That was your first kiss?!" Oliver wasn't sure if he should feel pride or horror.

Helena removed her hands from his and backed up the step. "No. No. I've been kissed. It's just that I've never-" she cut herself off and gestured a bit wildly between them. "That. What I mean to say is-"

"You don't snog boys on stairs?" His confidence had returned as his blush receded. Oliver decided that he liked her flustered.

"_Yes_! Or rather no. I mean not boys I don't know."

"I'd say we know each other rather well now." He smirked and leaned closer.

She gasped. This time it was Helena's turn to blush. "That's not what I mean at all. I don't snog anyone anywhere. _Especially_ when I don't know their name."

Oliver's smirk widened into a grin. He held out his hand and said, "Oliver Wood, Gryffindor quidditch captain, sixth year."

She hesitated, glancing back and forth at his hand and his face a few times. Slowly, she put her hand in his and replied, "Helena Blackmoor, Hufflepuff prefect, fifth year."

Oliver shook her hand before tugging it in his direction. "We should head back before people notice we've gone. Come on." Helena followed him down the stair and back toward the Great Hall.

He paused before they rounded the corner to the entranceway of the Hall, causing her to bump into him. His reflexes were not required this time. However, the small collision did cause Oliver to note their height disparity. The top of Helena's head did not reach his shoulders. "Sorry," she said, not noticing his examination of her person.

Helena was about to walk around him when Oliver caught her hand, stopping her progress. "Can I write you? Over the holiday?" He asked.

"Do you swear you won't tell a soul about what just happened?"

"Most solemnly."

"Then, yes. You may write me."

Oliver grinned, kissed her quickly on the mouth, rounded the corner and headed into the great hall. No one had noticed that he had been gone for a longer-than-usual time.

A few moments later, Helena entered the hall. Their eyes met briefly as she moved to rejoin a cluster of her friends.

* * *

Author's Note: A big thank you to Meg for beta reading this.


End file.
